SHIELD High
by TophBlindBandit
Summary: Due to a case of simple foreign affairs practice, Thor and Loki wind up in a Midgardian high school that just happens to hold the rest of the teenage Avengers as well. As to be expected, all hell breaks loose when an accidental murder takes place at the highly anticipated and drama-filled school dance.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This idea was originally crack, but I decided to make a fic out of it. Bear with me; this is purely for my own enjoyment, and I'm not even sure if I am taking it seriously!  
This fic contains unhealthy amounts of angst of all sorts: romantic angst, grieving angst, drug-induced angst, and just general teenage angst. You've been warned.  
(oh, and "Anna" is my version of the cellist that Tony mentioned.)_

_You can view the original of this fic at Archive of Our Own, which includes art. Just search for my username there, "BlindBandit."_

* * *

_Dear Sir or Madame,_

_It has come to our attention that you have applied for a student dormitory on school grounds. Every application is treated with utmost importance to ensure maximum student enjoyment in these dorms, which should not only be a privilege, but a fun experience. Your roommate request was taken into account, but if you have any issues with your assigned roommate, please email your principal, Mr. Fury, to put in a request for a different partner. The attached documents outline the behaviours expected of any student living in the dormitories, and further legal paperwork to send to your parents._

_Welcome back, and enjoy the school year!_

_Sincerely,_

_Phil Coulson_

* * *

The current assigned roommates are as follows:

Room 101: Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton

Room 134: Pepper Potts and Margaret Carter

Room 247: Thor Odinson and Loki Laufeyson

Room 249: Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis

Room 323: Anthony Stark and Steven Rogers

Room 401: Bruce Banner

* * *

Your teachers for this year are as follows:

Chemistry, Biology, and Physics will be taught by Dr. Erik Selvig.

English and Language Arts will be taught by Mr. Stan Lee.

Homeroom classes will be supervised by Mr. Phil Coulson.

All mathematics classes will be taught by Mr. Peter Parker.

All social studies classes will be taught by Mr. Obadiah Stane.

All physical education classes will be taught by Mr. Harold Hogan.

Band and choir will be supervised by Miss Anna Maria.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**1:32p.m., Thursday, September 4th, first day of school**

The first day of school is always bittersweet. Friends are finally back on a schedule that involves seeing each other every day, and reunions are sweet. But then there's the prospect of homework, teachers, getting up early, and pretty much every other thing that teenagers loathe and parents love.

Every year, the same thing happens like clockwork: school starts, drama ensues, friendships break and reform, and the school year ends with everyone in a different place than where they started. This year at SHIELD High School, a few new things were added to the mix, including two new students that were unknowingly going to change everything about their new school into something much crazier.

"-and we'd like to welcome our two new transfer students. You might have seen them around during the day, and hopefully have given them a good welcome. What were your names again?"

"I am Thor Odinson, of Asgard. This is my brother of the same name, Loki."

The students in the class who hadn't noticed the strange duo throughout the school day began muttering and casting side glances at the peculiar kids standing at the front of their homeroom.

_"Are they for real?"_

_"Where the hell is Asgard?"_

_"I think it's in Europe..."_

The brothers took the only empty seats; Thor sitting up straight and looking around the classroom in wonder while Loki slumped in his seat, his nose buried in a book, a look of perpetual boredom plastered on his face. Students continued to stare, but neither of them seemed to notice very much.

Phil Coulson, their homeroom teacher, continued ranting about the many things that had changed about their school since the previous year, which included the promotion of Mr. Fury to principal, as a result of Mr. Xavier's death, and Ms. Hill to vice principal after Mr. Parker hung up his coat and became a teacher.

No one usually paid any attention to anything Mr. Coulson said, since it was always just a rehash of the student-wide email sent out the night before. No one except Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, who sat next to each other and stared attentively at their teacher, absorbing every word.

They were known as the "couple who kicks ass and takes names" of the school; Tasha was practically on par with her master instructor for kickboxing, and Clint was the first place champion of the national archery competition every year. People had taken to calling him "The Hawk" because of his sharp eye.

Next to them was Darcy Lewis, whose hand was pressed into her face, squishing her cheek up. She didn't quite care how she looked at that moment, though, as she was fast asleep. That usually happened during homeroom, but Coulson either didn't notice, or had simply given up on the girl.

It wasn't long before a paper airplane flew to the front of the classroom and hit Mr. Coulson in the side of the head. He turned from the board and looked around, eyebrows raised, searching for the assailant. As if on cue, everyone looked down or away from their teacher.

Everyone except for Tony Stark. He grinned and fist bumped Steve Rogers under their table, trying to stifle a snicker. Steve gestured to the pile of paper airplanes stuffed in his messenger bag next to his chair, provoking another fist bump from Tony.

There was pretty much no way that Mr. Coulson hadn't noticed that little exchange, but he practically treated Steve like a hero, calling him "Captain Rogers," even off the baseball field. Steve could probably get away with anything in that class-and most of the guys resented him for his good standing with the teacher, and his good looks-even his best friend Tony, although he'd never admit it.

The ladies, however, were infatuated with him; Peggy Carter in particular. She showed up to every one of his baseball games without fail, and always had a cheerful greeting for him in the mornings. He would wave and say hello in return, but remained painfully oblivious to her advances.

"As I was saying, the welcome back to school dance is in a few weeks for you guys, so those of you who didn't turn in your money over the summer should do that soon," finished Coulson, glancing at the clock.

Tony felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around to see Pepper Potts smiling at him. He grinned and ran a hand through his already messy hair. She was holding a folded piece of paper, and tossed it in front of him.

He unfolded it, and tried to keep it out of Steve's view, who was not so subtly attempting to read it over his shoulder.

_Hi Tony! Speaking of the dance, do you want to maybe go with me? _

Steve caught his eye and grimaced. He made a small gesture to say no, but Tony ignored him and scribbled a quick response.

_Sure, sounds like fun. In that case, do you mind if I bring Rogers too?_

Unfortunately, he didn't catch Pepper's face fall when she read his note. Instead, he high fived Steve, who was suddenly very chipper.

He fired off another note, this time sliding it over to his friend, who grabbed it and reached for a pen while he read.

_Dude! I told you it was only a matter of time before Potts admitted she was in to me. Now you have to find a date so you're not a third wheel, man. _

Steve shot him a look, then wrote out a reply, frowning.

_i think im fine with being a third wheel_

_its better than asking a dame and getting turned down_

_and duh its obvious that she likes you man_

At this point, no one was listening to Coulson, not even Clint and Natasha, so he seemed to have given up and was now awkwardly sitting at his desk watching the clock tick down to the end of the school day.

Tony crumpled up Steve's reply and nodded at him. He could feel Pepper's eyes on the back of his neck and allowed a small smirk. He'd been eyeing Pepper since the seventh grade, and she started eyeing him in ninth grade. Of course, he'd never make the first move. He was as paranoid as Steve at the chance of getting rejected.

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind and replaced it with another: _Who would turn you down? If you had to, you'd have to problem asking someone to the dance. They wouldn't be able to say no._

The noise level in the room rose, and soon everyone was discussing the dance.

Jane Foster turned around a tad and glanced at Thor. He was cute, sure, but...he was a bit weird. He'd been turning the pen in his hand over and over again, fascinated by it.

Not that she had been watching him or anything.

She looked next to him at his brother, who hadn't put his book down, but he hadn't flipped the page once, either. She caught him staring at the teacher, his eyes slanted downward in a glare. That spooked her a bit, so she turned her eyes up back to the front just in time for the bell to ring.

Thor jumped to his feet, his arm out to his side. "What is that infernal noise?" he demanded, slamming his fists on the desk. "How can we leave when such a noise threatens the wellbeing of every mortal here? Look how they run from its sound!" He gestured to the students filing out of the classroom, looking back at him in skepticism.

Jane raised her eyebrows as she shook Darcy, trying to wake her up.

"Uh, Thor, was it?"

"That is I."

"Thor, that's just the bell. It means school is over. You guys can head to your dorms now."

"Such a curious invention," he mused, staring at the speaker from which the bell's noise had emanated. "Using a horrific sound to summon the students from their learning environment."

"Uh...huh..."

"Come, Loki. This mortal body has grown weak. I require rest."

Loki stood without a word, snatching his book from the table and walking rather quickly out of the classroom, Thor following close behind.

Jane shook her head and giggled at Darcy muttering, "What is he on because I want some." They grabbed their things and shuffled out of the room, killing the lights and locking the door behind them.

"This is going to be a long year."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**4:54p.m., Thursday, September 4th, 1st day of school.**

"So, you scored a date with Pepper, huh?" said Steve, stretched out on his bunk in their dorm. He bunked on top, and was grateful for it, so he could make a face without Tony noticing. He didn't know what it was about Pepper and Tony together, but he didn't like it.

"You knew it was gonna happen eventually. I mean, of course she'd get one look at my face and wouldn't be able to resist," he said casually, slapping on a stupid grin and tossing a can of soda up to his friend, who caught it laughing and cracked it open with a hiss.

"I don't think anybody can resist that," he said, then added hastily, "You're a total stud."

"You know it," replied Tony.

There was a silence in their room for a while. For Tony, it was comfortable; he milled about at his desk and tinkered with his gadgets, but for Steve, the room suddenly felt too small and hot. He rolled up his sleeves and took another sip of soda.

Tony pulled out his iPhone and pulled up Siri, which he'd tinkered with to make it his own personal butler named "Jarvis," and marked the day of the dance.

"You gonna ask anyone, or what? Seriously, now," he called up to Steve's bunk.

"Me? Nah," he replied.

"Why not, bro? You know Peggy's been checking you out since freshman year."

Steve groaned and flopped backward on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Not my type," was all he said. "Besides, you know I love being a third wheel."

Tony shot him a look and turned on the television, flipping through the channels absentmindedly. "You're perfect for each other and you know it. She's old fashioned, you're old fashioned. She's strong, you're strong. She's beautiful, you're gorgeous!"

Steve let out a laugh, but didn't respond. The truth was, he did like Peggy. She was sweet, and beautiful, and she was fantastically intimidating at times. But... he didn't like her in the way everyone expected him to.

Instead of hanging around the dating scene, he'd rather just kick back in his dorm with Tony, watching television and reading.

He briefly wondered if that made him weird, but shook away the thought.

_Stop thinking, Rogers. Stop it. You're not weird. _

Suddenly Steve's thoughts were interrupted by the door being flung open and Bruce Banner charging in angrily.

Tony jumped about a mile out of his chair and landed on his butt, a terrified look on his face. When he realized who the intruder was, he quickly regained his composure and yelled, "Whoa, security breach!"

"Shut up, Stark!" shouted Bruce, who was looking rather green in the face. He threw a piece of paper at Tony's head.

"What's your problem, dude?" demanded Tony, picking up the paper and glancing at it. "What is this? You know I don't like being handed things. Or having things thrown at me."

"Your resignation from the Science Olympiads? Tell me you're not serious." Bruce was now calmer, his face relaxing. He now looked merely disappointed instead of furious. That was one of the quirks Tony had pretty much agreed to put up with to be friends with Bruce. He had to deal with Bruce's occasional outbursts of rage. Despite this, they were known school-wide as the "science bros" who made everyone else look bad on their physics exams.

Tony sighed and handed the paper back to Banner, frowning slightly. "You know I can't be in the Science Olympiass anymore. Everyone in it-besides you-is too dumb; I can feel my brain cells decreasing in size just by standing near them."

Bruce made to protest, but thought better of it and mumbled, "You know that we need you to win."

"I know, big guy," he said, thumping him on the back. "But you're a smart cookie. I'm sure you can scrape a win without me."

Bruce shrugged and turned to leave. "At least rethink it a little," he said, and rounded the corner, shoulders hunched.

"Anger management has been working wonders for him," commented Tony, straightening his chair.

He waited for a chuckle from Steve, or perhaps a scolding comment for making fun of Banner, but he didn't say a word. Tony climbed halfway up the ladder to his bunk and peered over the side of the bed, only to see that the blonde had fallen asleep.

He was about to climb back down the ladder when he spotted a figure standing in the doorway; Banner had left the door wide open.

"You should mess with him."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You're that new kid, right? Luke?"

"Loki," he corrected, stepping into the room.

"Right..." said Tony, taking a step backward. "Look, sorry, but I don't take advice from strangers, so I'm just going to shut this door and you can walk away. Capiche?"

Loki grinned and turned his head in a knowing way. "Ehehe," he chuckled, and began to walk away. Tony moved quickly to shut the door, and looked out to make sure Loki wasn't still standing there, but the strange kid had completely disappeared. He leaned out into the hallway and looked both ways, but Loki was gone. He shook his head, closed the door, and sat back down at his desk, his mind blank for the first time all day.

* * *

Back in his own dorm, Bruce settled himself into his armchair with his head in his hands. He took steady breaths, mentally going through his calming words: _cats...cats...bag of cats... large bag of cute cats..._

It had been so long since his last outburst, he had allowed himself to believe that it was truly over. However, since the school year had begun, his anger had been growing by the minute. Even the slightest things set him off and left him fuming and raging at the nearest living being. He attributed it to the stress of the oncoming homework load, but deep down, he knew that wasn't the case.

He was dangerous; a time bomb just ticking down until its next explosion. It was for this reason that he had requested his own private dorm.

When he lost control, he became a person who was completely different than himself; everything he prided himself on, "The Other Guy"-as he called him-was not.

Despite his fearfully repressed anger, he was rather brilliant, and single handedly started the Science Olympiads at their school, later joined by Tony Stark, who became one of his close friends. When he and Tony discussed the latest discoveries in science and pretended that they were the scientists who had discovered it, he momentarily forgot about "The Other Guy."

However, when Tony quit the team, he felt betrayed and, of course, furious. He knew that putting himself in a situation where someone might get hurt was irresponsible at best, but he couldn't control himself at that point. Maybe it was the sight of his best friend that calmed him down, but he was hating himself at this moment for even leaving his dorm after he knew that he was angry.

Breathing out, he removed his face from his hands and reached for the remote, only to find that he had crushed it upon opening Tony's letter. Sighing, he made a mental note to put in a request for a new one. In the meantime, he moved to his bed and lied down, staring at the mattress of the unused bed above him.

* * *

"So, Miss Potts, I heard you have a date for the dance already," mused Natasha, a smirk on her face as she cleared off the desk that Pepper had used for the student senate meeting.

"And where did you hear that from?"

"I have my sources, as you know very well," she replied, still smirking.

Pepper glanced at her self appointed assistant with an exasperated look. Somehow, Natasha managed to know everything about everyone without even trying. It was for this reason that everyone walked on eggshells around her; one wrong move and she could ruin their reputation without so much as batting her eye.

Pepper never thought to ask why Natasha had requested to assist her in running student senate. She figured that the girl wished to be friends with her, but seeing as she hadn't even attempted to hang out, she quickly realized that friendship was definitely not her motivation.

"Well, yes, I have a date. And I'm sure you already know who," she said, trying not to look annoyed. She didn't mind the fact that Natasha knew she was taking Tony to the dance, it was that she hadn't told a soul yet, save for Peggy, and she didn't like that her personal life was so...accessible to Tasha.

"Of course," answered the red head casually. "I assure you, Miss Potts, the information will remain classified so long as you keep _my_ secrets to yourself."

Pepper nodded, then added, "You can quit it with the 'Miss Potts' business, yeah? I'm not an old woman. And I'm not about to go blurting out your so-called secret identity to anyone. I've got no reason to."

"As you wish-" she hesitated, "-Pepper." And with that, she sauntered out of the room, her recently cut hair swishing back and forth as she walked.

* * *

Once she had locked the door of her dorm behind her, Natasha made for her well organized desk to set down her papers, but she was blocked by Clint, who appeared to have come out of nowhere.

"Hey, Tasha," he said, reaching out for the stack she was holding. "Let me help you with those."

"I can handle myself, Barton. Mind moving out of my way?"

"Of course. After you hand me the papers."

"You know I won't, and I can stand here all night."

"So can I."

They stood there, immobile for quite a long time, interrupted only by a knock on their door.

"I'll get it," said Clint, and he abandoned his post to answer it.

Natasha smiled and rolled her eyes, then set the stack of paperwork on the desk and began to go through it, tossing the scraps that they no longer needed. She came across Tony and Pepper's note among the permission slips, grinned, and tossed that aside as well.

At the door, Clint came face to face with Pepper, who was looking rather distraught.

"Natasha Romanoff, you give me that note this instant," she seethed, pushing past Barton and striding right up to Tasha, who had turned around with a mildly interested look on her face.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do," she spat, and snatched the note out of the bin. "I'll be taking this. And if I find one more thing missing from my bag, you can bet that I will report you to Mr. Fury faster than you can say 'I'm sorry.' Got it?"

"Of course, Miss Potts."

Pepper threw one last furious look in the red head's direction, then stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Ouch," said Clint, facing Natasha. "What did you do this time?"

"Nothing, I just need to be more careful about how I remain in the know with my employers."

"Employer? What, is she paying you?"

"No, I just like the sound of it. Makes me sound like more than just the student who cleans up after the meetings."

"And of course you like official, don't you?" he grinned, sitting on the arm of her chair.

"You know I do." She gave him a half smile, then shoved him off the chair. "Now you'd better get ready for bed. If you don't want to complain about how long I take in the bath, you better get in there before I do."

He kissed her cheek, grabbed his pyjamas, and retreated to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it.

Natasha touched her cheek where he'd kissed her and allowed a small smile.

_Love is for children. So what should we call this?_ she wondered.

* * *

"Whoa there, slow down," cried Peggy as Pepper opened the door with such force that she knocked down the bulletin board pinned on the back.

"Not in the mood," said Pepper, throwing the crumpled note on her bed and heading straight for the bathroom, not even sparing Peggy a glance.

Peggy sat back in her chair and fluffed up her hair, looking up at the ceiling. Whenever Pepper was in one of her funks, it was best to just let her blow off some steam and then talk it out later.

"When you're ready to talk, let me know," she called and picked up a magazine.

She and Pepper had been close friends since elementary school, and usually got along; they shared an interest in both organisation and, of course, the dynamic duo that had remained out of their reach until this year.

Peggy couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Pepper scoring a date with Tony. She had been contemplating asking Steve, but he hadn't showed nearly as much interest in her as Tony had shown for Pepper.

She had originally chalked it up to shyness, but when months had passed of watching Tony and Pepper flirt with each other, leaving Steve and Peggy standing there awkwardly without a word, she began to consider giving up.

No use fishing in a lake that only held weeds.

* * *

"Brother, if you wish to be considered an average student here, you must first act like one," chastised Loki when Thor had finished rambling about the wonders of the television set in their dorm.

"How does one act like them? I still know not of their ways. I wish Father had given us more intellect on the matter," replied Thor, now playing with the window, pulling the shades open and closed.

Loki groaned. "It is this sort of behaviour that will draw suspicion onto us."

Thor looked over his shoulder. "Brother, I ask that you grant me more time to adjust to the ways of Midgard before throwing around accusations of incompetency." He released the curtain cord and gave his brother a pleading look. "The king of Asgard needs to be able to interact effortlessly with the people of other realms. If Father catches word of your unhappiness with my performance as a Midgardian student, he will surely revoke my position as heir to the throne."

His brother scoffed and muttered under his breath, "We definitely wouldn't want that." He flipped a coin absentmindedly, watching Thor out of the corner of his eye.

_Definitely not._


	3. Chapter 3

**9:31p.m., Wednesday, September 10th, two weeks before the dance.**

"Hey, man, we'd better get going. It's a half hour to curfew," warned Steve, attempting to drag Tony away from the bar at the Dragon Blood Bar & Grill, where he was making googoo eyes at Pepper.

"Lighten up, Rogers. We've got time," responded Tony, waving him off.

"No, we don't. If we miss curfew again, we'll be kicked out of the dorms; you remember what Fury said," insisted Steve, grabbing his shoulder again.

Pepper glanced at her watch. "Maybe he's right," she said, shoving her glass toward the bartender.

Tony let out a prolonged sigh. "Fine." He turned to Pepper. "Want me to walk you home, Potts?"

"I think I can manage on my own."

"Well then. I'll see you at school tomorrow," he grinned, kissing her straight on the mouth until Steve cleared his throat a bit too loudly. They broke away, Pepper looking a bit sheepish, and together they left the bar.

Neither of them seemed to notice that Steve had fallen behind a bit, sulking.

"Being a third wheel isn't as easy as I thought," he muttered as quietly as he could.

So far, he'd tagged along with the happy couple to every dress shop within 20 miles of their dorm, hoping to crack a few jokes with Tony about how dumb the whole thing was. However, his friend had become a completely different person around Pepper: one who was taking everything seriously.

It unnerved him how Tony hadn't made a single snarky comment the entire time they'd shopped, and even carrying over into the bar.

In "Gloria's Boutique," Steve had motioned to a hideous leopard print train wreck of a dress in the hopes that Tony would laugh with him, but he just waved him aside to help Pepper try on a few dresses.

In "Fantastic Dresses for the Frugal Female," Steve gestured toward a pinup poster in the back of the shop, anticipating one of Tony's famous 'ooh la la faces,' but all he got was a glare.

It was only until he had to endure one sickening hour at the bar listening to them fawn over each other that he began to plot the best way to get them to break up. He began running through a list of guys in their grade who were interested in Pepper, but could only think of Tony.

_Oh, right, no one tells me anything,_ he thought with a grimace.

There were definite perks to being Tony's best friend at this school, but there were even more downsides-one of which was that he had practically no other friends, aside from Bucky.

After contemplating his plan for a bit longer, he glanced up at Tony and Pepper, listening to their playful banter, and nearly smacked himself out of shame.

_Tony's my best friend. Pepper's a great gal. Why would I want to ruin this for them?_ he scolded himself. _Be the bigger person here._

So he walked a little quicker, with his head up high, but his mind in his gut, constantly reminding him ever so graciously how easy it would be to generate a break up.

_After all, it only takes one rumour..._

**11:21am, Thursday, September 11th, Econ class.**

"Owning a business is a very competitive process. It takes a lot of skill and willpower. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there, and sometimes you have to fight for what you want," ranted Mr. Stane, who was the only social studies teacher in the school, meaning everyone was stuck with him for all four years of high school, no matter what class they took.

"Sometimes, people will cheat their way to the top, and leave you choking on their dust. In that case, what do you do?" he growled, clearly in another one of his notorious not-so-subtle anti-Stark campaigns. He made sure to look right at Tony as he spoke.

"Cheat right back until you've won," sighed the class unanimously. On the first day of school, he had drilled this into everyone's heads, and they could no longer remember their arguments against his motto.

At first, Natasha's hand had flown up and retorted, "Regimes fall every day; what if yours falls thanks to the person you screwed over?"

He had simply laughed with a dark look in his eyes and said nothing, but everyone noticed the bits of chalk on the ground from the piece that he had snapped. No one combatted him since.

Tony tilted his chair back and balanced on the desk, hiding his phone under the table. He didn't have the time or attention span to sit through this class.

_hey rogers. stane is whack just like last year. youd think he wouldve given up on ripping on my dad but he just doesnt get that he'll never beat the starks. anyway hows english?_

He felt a kick at his seat, sending the chair toppling forward back on all four legs. Stane glared at him and continued with his rant, and Tony looked around for the offender.

"No texting in class, Stark," sneered the person who hated Tony more than Mr. Stane: none other than the genius wannabe Justin Hammer.

"No jealousy in class, Hammer," retorted Tony, leaning back in his chair again and checking his phone for a reply.

_TELL THE SCHOOL BOARD. HE CANT KEEP A GRUDGE. THATS NOT FAIR. AND ENGLISH IS BORING. I DONT UNDERSTAND SHAKESPEARE. PS HOW DO YOU TURN CAPS LOCK OFF?_

He sighed. Steve was so bad with technology that it killed Tony to hang around with him sometimes.

"Boyfriend giving you trouble?" hissed Justin, kicking Tony's chair down again.

Tony was about to fire a response back, but by then Stane marched over, snatched his phone, and slammed a detention slip on his desk.

"Perhaps you should be more focused on the class than-" he glanced at the phone's screen-"whatever Mr. Rogers is telling you about," he said with a shit-eating grin on his face. "You wouldn't want to fall behind, would you?" He turned around and returned to the front of the classroom, resuming his poorly-disguised rant about Stark Industries.

"Dick," muttered Tony quietly, grabbing for his backup phone.

_theres a button that says caps lock on it. click it. there you go. god, how are you even functioning? _

He winked at the disgusted look on Justin's face and gestured to his bag with his foot, where he had several other backup phones in case of jealous classmates and pathetic teachers.

Suck on that, Obadiah.

* * *

Phil Coulson usually spent his time at the school preparing for pep rallies, cheering on the baseball team, and supervising homeroom. Most of the time, that left him with many a free hour to relax and read.

And, of course, visit.

A gentle knock at his door jerked him out of his stupor. Expecting a student inquiring about something or another, he called out, "Come back later."

However, the door opened anyway, and Miss Anna Maria walked in, the finest cellist in the state and Shield High School's beloved music instructor.

"Hi, Phil," she smiled. "Is this a bad time?"

He immediately jumped out of his chair and smoothed out his suit and tie. "No, no, not at all, Anna. How are you?"

She perched on the edge of his desk, picking up a picture of the baseball team. "I'm fine, thank you. Your boys are looking well here," she commented, gesturing to the picture. "Rogers still your favourite?"

"Yeah, well, the kid's got spark," he chuckled. "Anyway, did you need something?"

She set the photo down and shook her head. Her pretty auburn hair was done up in a sloppy bun, and with each shake of her head, a few strands came loose and lightly framed her face. Coulson looked away to hide the grin slowly creeping on his face.

"Just wanted to say hi," she said, sliding off the desk. "I'd better be going. I think one of the clarinetists left his reeds in my room." Without looking back, she quickly left the office, letting the door close behind her.

He stared at the place where she had sat moments before and drummed his fingers absentmindedly on the desk.

"Nice, Phil," he mumbled. "Real smooth."

* * *

While Pepper remained true to her statement to Natasha and didn't breathe a word of her and Tony's relationship, almost everyone in the school caught on before long, what with Tony constantly hanging out with her and slinging his arm around her every chance he got.

At lunch, she was leaning into him ever so slightly, but to everyone at their table, they might as well have been making out right then and there.

"Hey? Hey! Earth to Stark!" called a voice, snapping Tony out of his Pepper-induced trance. "We all know you can't wait to get in Pepper's pants, but at least talk to us now," joked James Rhodes, one of Tony's closest and sanest friends.

"Come on, I'm paying attention to you! What was your name again?" He got a punch in the arm for that one, but Rhodey laughed all the same.

The same could not be said for Steve, who sat brooding over his sandwich, not looking at anyone.

Peggy tapped him lightly on the arm. "Steve? Are you alright?" she asked. "Why the long face?"

"Are you hearing this?" he whispered, gesturing with his head to Pepper and Tony. "He hasn't spoken to me about anything but Pep ever since they started dating."

She looked at him sympathetically. "He'll come around. They just need to get past this honeymoon stage," she replied. "In the meantime, why don't you find a girl of your own? Take your mind off things."

"Yeah, Rogers!" Tony jumped in without a clue as to the context of the conversation. "Why don't you find a girl? Huh?" he waggled his eyebrows while Pepper giggled behind him. Steve huffed and turned around.

"Not gonna happen." Tony shrugged and turned back to Pepper.

At this, Peggy rolled her eyes.

"Then stop sulking and start talking. If you don't tell him how you feel, then he'll just keep on doing what he's doing. Maybe he doesn't know he's leaving you out," she whispered angrily. "And if he doesn't get it, then that's his problem." She grabbed her trash and marched over to the bin, tossing it in with more force than necessary.

"Fiesty, that one," said Bucky appreciatively. "She's right, though, dude."

"Aw, save it."

"Hey! What are you guys whispering about? You're not talking about me, are you?" grinned Tony, rubbing Pepper's back.

Steve smiled the biggest, most disgusting smile he could. "Of course not, bro."

_Of course not._

A few tables over, Natasha was watching the group's shenanigans with a watchful eye, provoking a worried look from Clint.

"Tash, you're starting to freak me out with this whole gossip thing. Maybe cool it for today?"

She turned around, an angry glint in her eye. "Don't you get it, Clint? Knowledge is power. Don't you see how jealous Rogers is? With one tiny rumour, I could send him crashing and burning," she said, returning her gaze to their table. "And Carter. She's head over heels for him. And Rhodes. He's-"

She was interrupted by Clint, who grabbed her hand. "Enough, Tasha. You're getting too involved in other people's lives. This can't be healthy. You know you won't ever even use this as blackmail, so-"

Natasha jerked her hand away. "Don't you get it, Clint? People hated me when I first came to this school. They called me a communist; they were scared of me. Why disappoint them?"

She stopped watching Tony and company, but still didn't meet Clint's gaze. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes but she held them back with sheer willpower.

Power, after all, was something that she didn't have a shortage of.

* * *

As he stumbled through the halls to get the hell out of the school, Bruce thought only of the small paper bag he kept hidden in his trunk under his bed.

It was a bad bag.

But it was the only thing that could help him through a day like this.

With Tony gone from the Science Olympiads, it was a nightmare at today's meeting. Everyone got on his nerves and he couldn't focus at all.

Now he was focused on something, but he hated himself for it.

On his way to his dorm, he paused outside Tony's room. Upon hearing the laughter inside, however, he kept walking.

He knew when he wasn't wanted.

* * *

"Dude, how many of your phones does Stane have now, anyway?" wheezed Steve, who was laughing so hard at Tony's story from Econ that he had to clutch his stomach to keep from falling over.

"Hell if I know. Doesn't he get that the Starks can't be crushed?"

Steve nodded, still grinning, then looked toward the door. "Oh, did you get the mail yet?"

Tony shrugged. "Nah. Nobody sends me letters."

"But _I_ get mail. God, you're awful!" chuckled Steve. "I'll go get the mail then. I'll be back in two shakes."

Tony waved him off, not really paying attention anymore. He had just gotten a text from Pepper, and was off in fantasy land.

"Stark! You've got a letter," called Steve as he walked back into the room, balancing a package and a stack of mail on one arm and holding out a letter in the other.

"Probably the credit card bill," said Tony, grabbing the envelope and flipping it over. The minute he saw the return address his face fell. He immediately retreated to his bed and shoved it under the pillow, scowling.

He collapsed back in his desk chair, ignoring all of Steve's questions.

Later. Deal with the negatives later.


	4. Chapter 4

**12:01pm, Saturday, September 13th, eleven days until the dance.**

_Anthony,_

_ Your grades thus far have been less than what we expect of you. If you cannot handle your schoolwork this early in the year, how can we count on you for the remainder of your senior year?_

_ If I don't see some improvement, I am cutting you off from your credit cards and college fund. You're not going to skim through school on my budget. _

Tony crumpled the letter in his fist and tossed it in the bin just as Steve came out of the washroom, buttoning up his shirt. He caught a look at the grim expression on Tony's face and frowned.

"Something wrong? You've been acting weird since you got that letter," said Steve as he pulled on his jacket.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine. Don't worry about it, man," he lied, flashing a grin.

Steve nodded, unconvinced but not willing to push the issue. "Okay, well... I'm going to the mall to help Peggy pick out a dress for the dance. Call me if you need me."

"Right, like I can trust you with technology. I'll be fine. Just go. Get laid or something," said Tony, waving him off.

Steve made a face and closed the door behind him, bumping his head a bit as the door closed.

He walked down the hall, rubbing the small bruise forming on the back of his head. He passed by Thor and Loki's dorm, quickening his pace as he did so.

The brothers were creepy; he didn't like the way that Loki stared at everyone, almost as if he were sizing them up.

He shuddered. _Creepy._

Gold. It was such a pretty colour; it reminded him of his far-off home.

_I'll be there soon. _

When Loki discovered the staff, he was wary of it and all the stories and lore of its 'true power.'

He simply had to see for himself.

The staff worked, alright. If he could get the thing to its full potential, he could wipe out the people standing between him and Asgard, along with the throne.

_Forget mingling with the Midgardians. I'm resourceful. I deserve the crown. I deserve to be treated like Thor._

He absentmindedly stroked the staff, not taking his eyes off the small green prism perched on the tip. The lore told that when the staff was ready to be used, the prism would glow a deep green. Now it was flickering like a lightbulb about to go out.

The staff, he discovered, required a sacrifice to reach its full potential.

Emotion. Negative emotion, to be exact.

And what better place to find negative emotions than at an infamous high school dance? While the staff was weak now, come the twenty-fourth, he'd be feared, not ridiculed.

He'd be the ruler, not the ruled.

He'd be loved, not excluded.

But in all of his schemes, all of his delusions of a grandiose plan to rule Midgard and Asgard alike, he failed to notice one thing:

The staff's greatest source of negative energy was Loki himself.

After spending a lot of time with the "weirdo buff guy who likes to yell at inanimate objects," Jane found Thor rather fascinating. He certainly had an active imagination that rivaled her own.

He had told her tales of worlds beyond their own while he jogged next to her in P.E.

He had brandished his arms wildly as he told the story of how his "father" subdued a race of malevolent giants in a bloody war while he scarfed two boxes of poptarts during lunch.

He whispered with excitement as he told her of the "friendly rivalry" between he and his brother for the "crown" as they sat in homeroom.

"You should write novels one day," Jane said after hearing an exceptionally long-winded story about hammers and relics and realms at the cafe that Saturday.

"Pardon?"

"You know. Science fiction," she said, looking up at him eagerly. "Or...or you could help me with my research. I'm trying to prove that there's other life out there, and with your mind, we could-"

"Prove? You have all the proof you require right in front of you," laughed Thor. "Simply tell them that I am of Asgard, and-"

"Brother!" hissed Loki, leaning over his table to glare at Thor. "Have you forgotten Father's orders? Not another word, or you'll have us sent back home and the throne out of our reach even longer."

Jane blinked and turned to Thor, confusion written all over her face.

Thor laughed and replied, "Brother, fear not of our identities being revealed. These humans are petty and disbelieving of a world different than their own. We are safe."

Loki groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead, sinking down in his seat.

_Idiot. Idiot! Watch what you say around them, you big blubbering oaf!_

Jane shook her head and rested her face in her hand. Sometimes she really had no clue what was going on with those two. They seemed to be talking in code, but it didn't make a lick of sense to her at all. She wasn't even sure why Loki felt the need to tag along in the first place; it seemed to her like he had too much of an obsession with keeping Thor in line.

Despite all the strangeness surrounding Thor and his even stranger brother, she couldn't help but develop a crush on him.

After conveying her feelings to Darcy after her date at the cafe, she received a chuckle and smirk.

"Just ask him to the dance already," sighed Darcy, sipping a smoothie while she flipped through the channels on the TV.

"But...what if he says no, you know? I mean, he's a good looking guy; I'm sure there's plenty of other girls interested in him that he'd rather go for-"

"No, Jane. No," was all Darcy said before she became lost in her television show.

Jane thought on this for a while, doodling absentmindedly. Finally, she made her decision and in ten seconds, she was on the phone with Thor.

"Hi...Thor?"

"Mmmmff. Fmmmmfff," came the muffled reply. There was a scuffle and a bang, and the sound came into focus.

"I instructed you on how to use these yesterday, you imbecile-"

"Ah, Jane," interrupted Thor, cutting off the background voice that could only be Loki.

"Hi, um... hi," she stuttered, drumming her fingers on the coffee table.

"Hello," he responded patiently.

"So, um... I was wondering... if you're not busy, would you liketocometothedancewithme?" she said all in one breath, looking up at the ceiling and wanting to punch herself.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid-_

"Certainly, Jane," came his reply matter-of-factly, and Jane nearly dropped the phone.

"Seriously? I mean- that's good news! It will be so much fun," she corrected herself hastily.

"I agree. So, shall I see you then?"

"Yes! Er, yes, of course," she said, grinning even though he couldn't see her. She tried her best to channel her euphoria over the phone, but settled with just sounding really happy.

"Excellent," said Thor, and hung up the phone successfully after Loki coached him through it.

"So I assume she was completely overtaken by your charms," he said sarcastically, slumping in the nearest armchair.

"Well of course," replied Thor heartily, admiring himself in the mirror. "However, Midgardian women are...different...than Asgardian women. I admit to being inexperienced when it comes to the humans."

"Huh," grunted Loki, picking up one of the magazines he'd bought randomly to 'blend in.'

"Since you have done more research than I, perhaps you could assist me in wooing her?" he continued, flashing Loki his puppy dog eyes.

Loki looked up from the article on thoroughbred horses and raised an eyebrow. "I think you'll be fine on your own, brother."

Thor sighed and glanced at the door. "Can you point me to someone who can?"

"It's not difficult to see who is best with women. Look around you," was the last thing Loki said before curling up and disappearing behind the magazine, more interested in the article than he'd ever admit.

"I shall ask Stark; he always has a maiden on his arm."

Without a glance back at his brother, Thor burst out of the dorm, demanding to the entire hallway that he be taken to Tony.

* * *

"Tasha, are you done in there?" Clint called softly into the dressing room at the "Ooh-la-la" dress shoppe.

"Almost," came Natasha's response as she tried desperately to fit into a size 1.

"Alright, well I'm going to walk around until you're done," he said, starting to walk away.

"Wait!" she burst out of the dressing room and struck a pose. "What do you think?"

He smiled. "You're beautiful."

She grinned back, her arms reaching back behind her to hold the dress together. "Heh. I'd better check a bigger size, you know, just in case it shrinks," she said, and dashed back into the dressing room, trying to conceal the large rip on the back of the dress. "Can you grab me a 3?" she whispered through the crack in the door.

"Sure, babe," he replied, and she could hear him walking away to find the bigger size. She leaned back against the wall of the room and sighed. She didn't care much for being perfectly skinny, but she'd heard at least three of her classmates walk in here, all with size ones.

She heard a pair of footsteps enter the room and she paused to listen, recognizing the voice.

"Alright, Pep, I'll wait here. Don't take too long."

_Tony._

Natasha froze and leapt onto the small bench, pressing her ear against the wall. That'd be Pepper in the room next to her.

_I bet she fits in a size one_, thought Natasha bitterly. Their relationship seemed to be at an all-time high; there was no way the Tony Stark of one month ago would have waited for a girl to try on dresses.

Even Clint was getting restless after the first two dresses.

"Alright, Tony, how does this one look?"

"Stunning. You'll match my suit perfectly."

A giggle and what sounded like Pepper swatting his arm.

Suddenly, the room went quiet as Clint returned with the dress. _Damn, _she thought._ Now they know I'm here._

"I got it for you," he said into the door, tossing the dress over the top.

"Thanks," she said, and slipped the dress on. It fit perfectly, much to her dismay. "I think I'll go with this one."

"Well come on out and let me see!" Clint's voice was dripping with pride. She stepped out of the room, prepared to look her best since she was positive she was going to be compared with Pepper.

Sure enough, Tony and Clint were sizing up each other's girlfriends, and both looked back with satisfaction. She smirked and walked back into the room to change into her normal clothes. When she walked out of the dressing room arm in arm with Clint, she snuck a peek at the dresses that Pepper had discarded, and sure enough, they were all size ones.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the same dress shop, Steve walked no closer than two feet from Peggy as they roamed the store looking for a dress. She kept glancing over at him, but he wouldn't meet her eye, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

"What do you think of this one, Steve?" she asked, holding up a beautiful red dress. He glanced at it, then looked down. "It, uh...it's pretty," he mumbled.

She furrowed her eyebrows together. "Steve, I-" she stopped herself. What was it she'd told herself at the beginning of the year? _"No use fishing in a lake that only holds weeds?"_ _Yeah_. Maybe she should take her own advice.

"I'll just go try this on, then," she said, and walked away, leaving Steve standing there awkwardly. He watched Pepper and Tony leave the store, but they didn't notice him. He leaned against a pillar and buried his face in his hands for a moment.

Senior year was supposed to be the best year of his life. Why was he so miserable, then?

"I've decided on this dress," came a voice from behind the pillar, spooking him.

"Ah! Oh, uh... Yeah, that's...nice..." he said sheepishly, and he walked her to the counter where they purchased the dress.

When they reached the door, Steve half-whispered, "Do you want me to, you know, take you home?"

"I'll be fine, thanks," she replied, and strode outside, waving down a taxi.

Steve sighed, half-relieved, half-mortified. He couldn't believe how awkward and horrible he'd acted around her.

_She probably hates me now. I bet she didn't even mean this to be a date. She just wanted me to help her with her dress. I'm such an idiot._

He groaned in frustration and slammed the door of his car shut with more force than necessary.

When he got back to the entrance of the dorm, he was surprised to find Tony out front, waving him down.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he called, and knocked on Steve's window, motioning for him to roll it down.

"What's up, Stark?" he asked, sounding more harsh than he'd intended.

"Whoa, calm down," he laughed, then stiffened. "Don't look now, it's Hammer." He started blabbering about random things until Justin walked by.

"Don't mind me, Stark. Just doing an article on cutest couples for the newspaper. Mind if I get your picture with Rogers?" he held up his phone and mimed taking a picture.

"Oh no, we don't deserve that title. I could take a picture of you and your hand, though, if you want," responded Tony casually, holding out his hand for the phone, grinning.

Hammer spluttered a bit, then walked away, muttering what sounded like "Stupid..."

Tony turned back to Steve and held up a peace sign. "I'm pretty sure I wasn't far off, huh? I bet he only makes jokes like that because it's him who likes dick."

Steve half laughed and leaned back in his seat. "Haha..."

"Yeah, so, I need you out of this car and in the dorm, STAT. No questions, just be there." Tony stared him down, still grinning, then dashed off to the dorm room.

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

_What's wrong with me today?_

* * *

Once back in the dorm, Tony held both his arms out proudly, his suit for the dance on a hanger behind him. "Ta-da. What do you think?"

"It's great, dude," sighed Steve, slumping into the nearest armchair.

"'Great'? Just _'great'?_ This is Armani!" he exclaimed, placing his hand to his chest in fake hurt.

"No, it's awesome. Better?"

"Much."

Steve yawned and stalked into the washroom. "I'm going to wash up for bed," he grumbled.

Tony scoffed. "It's nine. Tomorrow's Sunday."

Steve didn't respond. He knocked his head against the mirror and looked up at the ceiling. _Come on, Rogers, pull yourself together. Pepper and Tony are great together. He'll come around and it'll be like it used to, just with her around._

_ That's not much like it used to be at all._

* * *

_Don't look under the bed. Don't look under the bed._

Too late.

It was too late for everything.

As Bruce opened the paper bag to reveal the smaller plastic baggie inside, he thumped his head against the bedpost and cursed to himself.

_All too late._

* * *

**11:23am, Monday, September 22nd, two days until the dance.**

The dance loomed ever closer, and with it, tensions were at an all time high. Loki couldn't help but feel a swell of pride every time he successfully convinced a student to perform a mischievous act and the staff's prism glowed a little brighter.

He also began to notice that he could no longer walk for too long without feeling faint. He dismissed it as lack of sleep, but couldn't deny that he was getting weaker.

His face was paler than usual, and his usually prominent cheekbones now stood out on his gaunt face. He looked like a skeleton.

A small voice in his head told him that it was the staff, but he pushed the notion aside. Even if it was weakening him, it wouldn't matter once he ruled Midgard and Asgard.

It would all be worth it.


	5. Chapter 5

**6:00pm, Wednesday, September 24th, the day of the dance.**

The gym was nigh unrecognisable to the students as they traipsed in, arm in arm with either their dates or their friends. There were streamers and balloons everywhere, and the tables were covered in dark tablecloths. A DJ was nestled on the stage surrounded by sound equipment, and a large table was in the corner nearly toppling over from the amount of food piled on it.

The songs began once it hit 6:30. It was the usual dance material: fast and jumpy and very pop.

Pepper led Tony out onto the dance area, tugging uncomfortably on the back of her dress but smiling nonetheless. They began to jump around along with the rest of the students, but not taking their eyes off each other.

Steve hung out around the food table, awkwardly snacking on cookies and pastries, feeling extremely out of place.

He watched as Clint twirled Natasha around, grinning. He watched as Bruce snuck into the bathroom clutching a paper bag.

_I bet he's gonna spike the punch_, thought Steve, allowing a half-smile.

"Mind if I cut in?" Steve gave a start when Peggy appeared next to him, standing up straight and looking stunning in her form fitting red dress.

"Oh, uh...wh-what?" stammered Steve, caught off guard and feeling a bit warm. Or was it the suit? Maybe it's because there weren't any windows in here-

"Would you like to dance, I mean," clarified Peggy, holding out her hand.

"Oh, um... To be honest, I don't really...know how," he confessed, glancing to where Tony and Pepper were spinning around and holding each other, and forcing back a grimace.

"Neither do half these people," laughed Peggy, taking a bite of a cookie. "That's not stopping them. What do you say we dance badly together?"

Steve hesitated, then took her hand and nodded, walking them to the dance floor, not taking his eyes off Tony and Pepper.

The DJ announded that there would be a few slow songs coming up, and when the twinkly soft music drifted through the room, everyone calmed down and attached themselves to someone else. Peggy grabbed Steve's waist and frowned a bit when she saw him still staring at the joined-at-the-hip Pepper and Tony.

After the second slow song of minimal movement and eye contact, Peggy pushed Steve away angrily. "Steve, if you didn't want to dance with me you should have said so, instead of ogling your friend's girlfriend the whole time," she said, her face contorting. "If you like Pepper you shouldn't have agreed to dance with me." With that, she stalked away toward Bucky and his girlfriend Jenna.

Left alone and stunned in the midst of slow dancing couples, Steve gaped after her. When he finally broke out of his trance, he retreated back to the food table, feeling embarrassed and confused.

After the slow dancing had stopped and the dance floor had turned back into a mini mosh pit, Bucky and Jenna walked over, Bucky making an apologetic face at him. "Struck out, eh, mate?"

"You could say that," grumbled Steve, his cheeks warming. He didn't know what was happening anymore. A few weeks ago, he'd have been perfectly fine dancing with Peggy.

"Got the hots for Potts?" Bucky nudged his shoulder, grinning widely. "Good luck, man. Tony's got dibs."

"No," was all Steve said before he excused himself and ran off to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, Thor and Jane were attempting every dance move they knew; Thor's were admittedly a bit odd, but Jane was certainly enjoying herself.

It wasn't until Thor had spun her around twice that he recognised none other than Loki lurking behind the curtains used for school plays, looking around frantically.

_"Dammit,"_ Loki cursed when his and Thor's eyes met. He hadn't counted on his brother seeing what he was about to do.

Of course, he had everything in place; the staff was glowing rather brightly since a few couples had fought during the dance, which increased the power significantly. However, with Thor now watching him, there was no way he could unleash it here.

Cursing loudly, he threw back the curtain and ran out of the gym and down the hallway that led to the exit.

"Whoa there, Loki. I'm going to have to confiscate that, since it kinda counts as a weapon," came Coulson's voice. He was monitoring this hallway in case any of the couples decided to step out early.

Loki's face blanched, and without thinking, he thrust the sceptor forward, impaling Coulson right through the stomach. He looked in horror as Coulson wobbled for a second, his eyes wide, then slid to the ground, blood dribbling from his mouth.

Suddenly the lights seemed too bright and his vision began to blur. _This wasn't supposed to happen..._

_ Why did this happen?_

_ What do I do?_

The janitor's closet near the gym was dark and seemed to be unused. Loki, his eyes darting everywhere, dragged the body into the closet and shoved it under a shelf after yanking the sceptor out. This caused the blood that was held back by the staff to come spurting out everywhere, forming a puddle of red around Loki's feet.

Scraping his shoes off at the door, he gripped the bloody sceptor and sprinted toward his dorm, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this one.

By this time, the dance had ended with a bang, and the dance-happy crowd was filing out of the gym and into their cars, headed for one hell of an after party at the bar down the road.

* * *

**11:34pm, Wednesday, September 24th, the bar.**

The bar was hopping; the bouncer had long since given up checking for ID's with the humongous crowd of high schoolers pouring in.

Once they'd entered the bar, Pepper and Tony split; Pepper went to gush with Peggy about the dance, and Tony made straight for the bar, declaring to Steve that it "would be irresponsible not to drink."

Likewise, a few seats over, Natasha was far from sober as she waved down the bartender to grab her fourth beer.

"Tasha, come on, you know it won't be any fun if you're passed out, right," pleaded Clint, looking at her with concern.

"Barton, babe, you know this bar will be ten times as fun if that happens," she slurred, grinning stupidly.

When the bartender brought Natasha's drink, Clint snatched it and drank it himself.

Tasha stared at him. "Well how the -hic- hell am I supposed to drink it now?" she demanded, poking him in the stomach.

"You're not," replied Clint. "Maybe we should go sit in a booth or something," he said, offering his hand to her when she wobbled upon standing up.

"I got it, big shot," she said, slapping his palm.

As they slowly but surely made their way to the closest booth, they passed a stumbling Bruce, who was on his way to the restroom.

"Need any help?" offered Barton, but Bruce ignored him and slammed the bathroom door behind him. Clint shrugged and sat down with Tasha.

In the bathroom, Bruce could feel the effects wearing off. Everything was coming into focus, and he could feel his rage boiling by the second. Panting, he grabbed frantically for the paper bag, but even looking at the baggie inside it made him want to throw up. He tossed it away from him and stood shaking in front of the mirror, hating the blurry reflection staring back at him.

Seemingly a million miles away, Jane Foster was the happiest she'd ever been. The night had gone perfectly, and Thor remained sweet and interested in her rants about space, even after downing ten drinks.

"You sure can hold your liquor, huh?" chuckled Jane when he bellowed for another.

"Of course," he replied heartily, taking her hand in his.

She blushed and looked away, tucking her hair behind her ear. She glanced back up and frowned when she saw the far away look in his eye.

"Is something wrong? You've been acting weird since your brother showed up at the dance."

Thor snapped out of it and returned his gaze to her. "It is no troubling matter. Loki has just been acting out of sorts, and it worries me. But you are right; I should be focusing on your beauty, not Loki's madness."

She giggled and quickly gulped her drink when he began stroking her arm.

"Baby, why are you sooooo tense?" Natasha drawled, stretching herself out over Clint. He shrugged out of the way and returned her to a sitting position.

"Tasha, I think we should go back to the dorms. You're completely hammered," he said, already getting up.

"That sounds like a great idea, babe," she purred, and stumbled out of the booth, grabbing his shirt and dragging him out into the parking lot.

"Natasha Romanoff, you are drunk out of your mind. Don't go doing something you'll regre-"

Clint was interrupted when Natasha flung her arms around his neck and crushed her lips against his. He felt her tongue on his bottom lip and pushed her away, gasping for breath.

"Tasha, don't do this," he said, his face falling.

She pouted and bounced on her heels like a five year old. "Don't you love me?"

He sighed and unlocked her car, helping her into the backseat. "We're going back." He slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, but then felt her lips on the back of his neck. He spun around and she grabbed him by his tie, grinning.

Clint gave her a kiss, then said, "Tasha, you're drunk. You don't want this."

"How do you know what I want?" she said, and pulled him into the backseat. In two seconds, she had him pinned to the window and was trailing kisses up his neck, stopping at his ear to growl, "I want you."

Clint shook his head. "We're not ready. I don't have anything, you're drunk, and it's not exactly classy to do this in the back of your ca-"

She cut him off with a kiss again, and began unbuttoning his vest. She ripped his tie off and lifted her dress above her head.

"Just relax," she whispered, and Clint, hating himself, gave in.

* * *

"Hey man, you know you're my best friend, right?" slurred Tony, after his sixth beer, leaning on Steve's shoulder. "You're my best friend and I love you, man." He slapped his shoulder and yelled to the bartender, "Get this son of a bitch another beer 'cause he's my best friend, and get me another one too."

Steve waved the bartender away and said, "Come on dude, I think that's enough. You're going to puke."

"Nope, nope," he said with a hiccup. "I had the best -hic- time of my life at this dance and I'm gonna -hic- have another goddamn drink." He was now looking rather green, so Steve hoisted him over his shoulder and dragged him to the bathroom in case he got sick.

He ran into Pepper on the way, who gasped in concern and offered to help, but Steve insisted that he could handle it. She watched him prop his friend on the chair, and then the door swung shut.

He was shocked to find Bruce clenching the edges of the sink, his head drooping in front of the mirror.

"You okay?" he asked, reaching his hand out to touch his shoulder, but Bruce swatted him away with more force than was necessary.

"Get out," he growled, not looking up.

Steve held his hands out in front of him in a gesture of peace, slung Tony over his shoulder, and backed out of the bathroom. By this time, Tony was slurring into Steve's ear that he needed another drink.

He found a booth in the back to prop Tony up with and sat across from him.

"Dude, you okay?" he asked, handing him a glass of water.

"What are you talking about? I've never -hic- been better. Alone with my bro in the middle of...where are we again?" asked Tony, a looking around with a glazed smile on his face.

"At the bar," he said, scooting over to his friend and patting him on the shoulder. "You're wasted, Tony. I thought you said you could hold your liquor?"

"I can't hold nothing but money," he said. "I'm made of money. I'm like...I'm like a monkey made of money," he laughed, grabbing Steve's shirt. "You listen to me, because I'm a money monkey money..." He trailed off and slumped a bit in his seat.

Steve made to pat his head, laughing, when Tony squinted and grabbed the lapels of Steve's dress shirt again. "Pepper? Pepper you're -hic- a gorgeous lady," he said, smiling stupidly.

Steve chuckled. "Haha, I'm not-"

But he was cut off when Tony kissed him full on the mouth.

He wasn't sure what to do; Tony had a firm grasp on his shirt. He grabbed on to Tony's sleeves but was too shocked to think about what to do.

Push him away? he thought, but made no effort to do so.

When Tony finally broke away, Steve looked behind his drunken friend to see Pepper standing there staring at them, her eyes wider than Steve's.

He stammered a bit, still pink in the face, trying to find the words, but he couldn't manage to say anything.

Pepper stood gaping, then after staring Steve down with a glare on her face, she turned on her heel and marched right out of the bar, her friends grabbing at her arm and asking what was wrong.

Steve looked down at Tony, whose head was lolling to the side, his words so slurred that it was impossible to understand him. He looked around at the rest of the bar in horror, seeing many people avoiding his gaze.

_They saw._

His face beet red, he left his friend at the booth and ran out of the bar, his head down. Several people tried to stop him and ask what happened, but he ignored them all and didn't stop until he reached the student dorms.

* * *

"Tell me what happened, hon," said Peggy calmly, rubbing Pepper's back as she sobbed into a tissue.

"I-I walked over to where Steve had sat Tony down, you know, because he wasn't feeling well, and when...when I got there, he was...he was..." She couldn't finish the sentence and just continued crying.

"There, there, I'm sure it couldn't have been too bad. If he dumped you while he was drunk, it doesn't count. He must not have been thinking straight."

Pepper shook her head. "It wasn't that. Go ask Steve, that bastard," she growled, suddenly angry.

Peggy raised her eyebrows. "What did Rogers do?"

Pepper let out a laugh. "That's what _you_ think," she spat.

Peggy said nothing, still rubbing her friend's back comfortingly. _I bet he made a move on her and Tony broke up with her. What an asshole._

Pepper blew her nose into the tissue, blotted her eyes, and stared ahead coldly. She didn't care about whom Tony decided to date. That was his business. But how dare he spend the entire dance with her, laughing and having fun, then turn around and kiss someone behind her back?

That wasn't going to fly with her.


End file.
